Sixteen
by Laguna's twin sister
Summary: Adolescence was never easy. Basch decides to help his young charge cope with one of the most important events in his life at that point as best as he could. nonyaoi


Disclaimers: I don't own FF12. please don't sue me.

Sixteen

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Sixteen. There was something eerily strange about that number. It is even stranger if it had been your age – an age wherein one is no longer a boy yet still is barely a man.

Many things happened before he reached that age. Larsa Ferinas Solidor lost his mother when he was two. His brothers died one by one in the years that followed. By the time he was twelve, it had been his father's turn to depart from this world and right before he turned thirteen, his last sibling left him, making him the ruler of the house Solidor.

Sixteen was nothing more than a mere number to him now, in theory, after being a successful monarch in his tender years. In fact, his age was rarely an issue, especially after he had suppressed all threats by the senators, signed peace treaties and forged alliances and ultimately advocating peace in Ivalice.

Yet at sixteen Larsa had remained human, vulnerable to the idiosyncrasies of youth. A part of him was open for curious exploration, and a part of him was still left open, defenseless against the woes of love and despair and everything else in between.

And this was exactly the reason why, in the middle of his sixteenth year that he decided to truly act his age, even for just one night. Yet what he had in his mind was not anything grand. In fact, it may even be considered the dullest form of rebellion. In the simplest sense, it was highly stupid, even to him.

Yet possessing the stubborn nature people aged sixteen are said to be furnished with, he pushed forth in his quest to explore the pleasures and misery of being inebriated.

He sat alone in the one of the verandas in the Solidor mansion, partly thrilled with the chance that he might get caught, but mostly not caring about anything and everything else. He sat in the dim corner, looking at the wine glass, as if he were challenging it, fighting with it, and warning it about his plans of conquering it. He shrugged, thinking how childish it was to linger as he got the bottle and uncapped it. He slowly pulled the cork out, hearing the victorious "pop" and saw some fizz building up by the bottle's rim. He sighed as he got the bottle and poured himself a glass, watching with slight fascination as the dark fluid flowed out and in his glass.

As he tilted the glass, making the liquid swirl around it, he tried to decipher once again his rationale for doing this senseless act. Was it really a form of exploration? Was it a display of teenage angst and despair? No. He was sixteen, and that was reason enough, he told himself. He was drinking because he was sixteen. Nothing more, nothing less…he told himself those words over and over, as if to form a sense of conviction, until he finally gave in and took a big gulp.

And so it flowed down his throat. Warm, bitter yet slightly sweet… it was like drinking a new type of elixir.

He coughed loudly; his body seemed to be unprepared. He felt the warmth spreading to his stomach as his ears started to feel like they were burning as well. The feeling was not pleasant at all and he wondered if it would get better. What was the point of drinking? What is the point of losing your sanity to a hot bitter unrelenting drink?

Sixteen. He knew his charge was already sixteen. Yet when the dutiful knight realized what his young master had been up to, he couldn't help but feel that he must intervene. He had been sixteen once, he knew, and he must have been as adventurous. Yet his protective nature told him that it was wrong to leave the child… no, Larsa, be.

He glanced sideways and saw a dark figure somewhat hovering over him. He was never really fond of spirits, in fact, assassins proved to be worse "scaries" as seeq hunters might put it. And then he deduced that it was too early for him to be drunk. Yet he soon looked up and saw the figure much nearer than before.

"Basch!" the younger man exclaimed, surprised at the fact that he had been caught. Yet he knew it was futile to retreat or to cover up what he had done. After all, it had been one of the variables he looked at before he even decided to push through with this act.

"…"

The knight knew it was wrong to leave him, and meddling had always been frowned upon. He sat down nonetheless and effortlessly got the glass from the younger man's grasp.

An adult, a true adult always dealt with things differently, Larsa thought, as he bowed his head humbly. Was he going to get reprimanded, by his guardian, of all people? But he supposed it was all right, after all, he would not have it any other way…

He did not know how to chastise his own liege. But somehow he knew there was no reason for him to do so in the first place. Yet drinking alone was never easy, especially when you were sixteen. He had his twin to thank for never experiencing such an awkward moment. It was because he and Noah often experienced the ups and downs of adolescence together. Yet Lord Larsa …

Basch quietly got the bottle by Larsa's side and poured some wine for himself. He didn't bother to look at it, or to ponder on it as the younger man had. He simply lifted the glass to his lips and downed it with one quick gulp. After which, he retuned the glass to the boy.

"Lord Larsa, I do wish you had reconsidered your chosen drink for tonight," Basch said as he grimaced slightly, feeling the warmth caused by the liquor spreading all over his body, "I honestly think Bhujerban Madhu is too strong for your taste. The Archadian wines would have been a better choice."

Larsa blushed, partly because of the alcohol and partly because of shame. "I was being silly I suppose"

"Try to do it half a glass at a time," Basch suggested as he poured some wine on the young lord's glass, "here. You would end up coughing or spewing it out if you drank a lot of it at once."

The young man nodded in gratitude before he drank the wine poured in his glass. The wine still tasted bitter and was still just as hot, yet it was more tolerable now, as Basch had said.

The pair sat in silence in the dark corner of the veranda. The night had fully crept in and the moon can already be seen overhead. They took turns in drinking from the glass, Basch looking like he had no plans of reprimanding the younger boy and Larsa looking like he had no plans of stopping. They just continued to drink… and drink to what seemed to be their hearts' content.

Yet soon the knight spoke. "I must say… I am not an advocate of liquor. Neither should a young man of your stature be," he said, trying to be at ease with the idea that he had actually allowed or even encouraged the young boy to drink, "You would tell me if you were feeling queasy, wouldn't you?"

Larsa grinned, suddenly looking much younger than he was. "I was told that the sick feeling comes in the morning, leaving you no room for regrets during the night."

"That is true… I suppose," he replied, grinning himself. "Although I must warn you, with this Bhujerban madhu, it would be far worse than a _sick feeling_."

"Oh Basch," Larsa said lightheartedly as he poured wine in his glass and gave it to the older man, "I'm sorry, it must be hard for you to give in to my childishness."

He shook his head and returned the empty glass to his lord, "No, not really. I just want to remind you of the consequences this drinking spree entails. Why… Aren't we scheduled to meet Miss Penelo and the others tomorrow?"

The young man snorted, as he drank another glass. He loosened his collar at that point and had the urge to remove his stockings as well, already feeling the warmth, no, the fire caused by the Bhujerban Madhu. "I'll send a note telling her I am sick with a headache. It does not matter. It would be of little importance." … to her, he added to himself.

The tone the younger man had was not missed by the knight. He realized there was more to this sudden urge for "exploration" than he had thought. This was not one of Lord Larsa's spurts of childish whims. It was in fact very far from that. In fact, it looked like the young lord has started taking steps towards another realm.

He glanced at the boy, seeing him pout as he poured himself another glass of wine. He poured more than what he had taught him to do. He got the glass and the younger boy resisted. Yet Larsa must have felt the tight grip Basch had that he decided to let go. He set the glass aside and turned towards the younger man's direction. He looked at him for a while, silent, not really knowing what to say. It had always been hard to be expressive on his part. Even when he was as old as Larsa was, he barely had to voice out his intimate feelings. It may have been because the feelings were not there at that time in the first place or that he had a special bond with his brother, his most constant companion that he did not have to use words to convey his qualms or his support.

"It doesn't matter," Larsa muttered, mostly to himself, looking down yet not focusing on anything, "I'm drinking tonight and I do not care what tomorrow brings." Suddenly feeling weepy, he hugged his knees in an effort to hide himself from his guardian's close scrutiny. "I am sixteen and old enough to drink aren't I?"

"For the right reasons, I suppose, yes." Basch replied as he shifted to a more comfortable position to face his charge. "I had my first jigger when I was thirteen, if that would serve any consolation to you."

"Why? Why did you drink?"

"Because… Because I was thirteen, I suppose," he said, thoughtfully, having a distant look in his eyes. "I wasn't going to let Noah get all the thrill for himself alone. In Landis, someone cannot be considered a man until he can hold his liquor."

Larsa looked at Basch, trying to imagine Gabranth as well in his head. It wasn't very hard to do, considering all he had to think of was looking at the other side of Basch's face where no scar was in place. He tried to imagine both of them together, drinking as he and Basch had.

"What about you Lord Larsa? Why did you decide to drown yourself in alcohol?"

"Because I am sixteen," he replied firmly, not even slurring at the words, "That is reason enough isn't it?"

"Maybe," he said knowingly. He got the glass once more and took a drink, before waiting for a nod of affirmation from the young lord. "Yet I remember drinking to all the wrong reasons."

"Oh and what were those reasons?"

"Drinking for a _real reason_, and drinking for no reason at all." When he saw Larsa eye him strangely, he could not help but let out a chuckle. "I apologize, that seemed a bit off."

"Define… _real reasons_"

"Oh I don't know…" Basch mumbled as he stretched out his legs in front of him, as if easing himself for a painful and embarrassing confession. "To escape from fear, to celebrate a joyous event, to mourn…"

"To mourn…" Larsa mumbled as he leaned back on the wall, suddenly feeling sharp pain in his chest.

"To mourn for losing something precious… or even a love forgone, take your pick."

"So which reason can be considered wrong or childish, and which can be considered otherwise?" he asked as he shoved his glass towards Basch's direction in an almost spoiled manner as he waited for the older man to pour him some wine.

"All or none. I could not blame anyone for choosing to drink because of these reasons," he seemed almost unfocused as he poured wine in his glass, barely noticing he had poured more than he had wanted to, "yet based on my own experience, it had always been pointless. The wine could never drown the pain. Intoxication would not make you forget. Those I have lost would always be gone. She, who I love, will always be far from my grasp."

It was dark yet he still saw the faint glimmer of what he thought to be a tear unshed in the older man's eyes. So the quiet Basch, his current guardian was still human after all. Probably more _human_ than he ever was, Larsa thought. He was not alone after all. "But if alcohol can't help… how could you deal with the pain? How could you reconcile with the knowledge that she had chosen to belong with someone else?"

Basch stiffened, suddenly aware of the slip he had made. Was he getting drunk? Did the young lord know what he had talked about? That wound he had nursed all these years… that same wound he had kept and had opened and closed for the past few months – was it to be revealed now?

"How could I face her again, when I know… I know that the glances, the touches and the way she deals with him … that it means something," Larsa slurred at the words slightly, lifting his hand to his eyes, covering them just in case the tears do fall, "She said in the letter. She said she was happy. He asked her and she said yes."

Basch sighed at his own self-centeredness. This was not about him. It suddenly became clear. The poor boy was nursing his first heartbreak. How could he have been so insensitive? He placed his arms on Larsa's shoulder; in an effort to give the comfort he did not know he was capable of giving.

"I drank four bottles of Bhujerban Madhu, alone, on her wedding day, you know," he said, forcing a grin, "It was not enough, I tell you. The hell I went through the next morning… it was not worth it."

"Then what am I to do?" Larsa whispered helplessly, tearful cerulean eyes searching the older man for an answer.

"There are other ways to cope, Larsa." He said, replying in an almost brotherly way. "And you are still young. You are sixteen. You still have your whole life ahead of you."

Sixteen. How could he have forgotten how it felt like? He was once young and naïve. Vulnerable, hoping, desperate and willing. And yet he had to push all those feelings away – because his new life dictated him to, because the pain was starting to be unbearable. As he grew older, he instilled in his mind that he was no longer sixteen and must never act that way again. And yet now, as he was forty, drinking with a sixteen year old boy, he realized he had not aged a year after all. He still had those feelings, locked up inside, forcing themselves to come out.

"Pain is just one of the feelings Larsa, someday; you would learn to appreciate the beauty of that feeling. A love, unrequited may seem to be the most hellish thing at sixteen. Yet I know that you know that although more painful feelings may come as you get older, more glorious feelings are in store for you as well."

He thought about what the older man said. Surely what he felt was like a light scrape compared to what Basch had gone through. And yet he also seemed to be right. He was sixteen, and he hopefully had more years to live. He would go through more, he would feel more, and he probably would drink more.

"I don't think I want to drink anymore Basch. Here, you can have the last glass."

"Thank you"

"When I turn seventeen, you must bring me to tavern and there we would drink more wine… hopefully less bitter and less horrid than this… Bhujerban madhu."

The older man sighed at his young slightly drunk lord's request. He supposed it were better that way, than if he were persuaded to go drinking with a sky pirate, or worse, another young man just as eager as he was to drink a fountain of liquor.

"But it wasn't so bad, not as bad as I thought it would be," Larsa yawned as he struggled to walk. "See, I barely even got drunk. Bah. This Bhujerban Madhu is a joke."

The young man was uncharacteristically boastful, and Basch wondered faintly if he should walk behind him or in front of him to break his fall, just in case. Must he carry him now or let him walk a bit more. Larsa talked from time to time, and once he had to put his hand over his mouth to prevent a passer-by to hear him. Surely his supposed bill to make Draklor laboratory a winery would not be taken lightly.

Larsa was barely aware of what was happening anymore. All he knew was that he was getting tucked in bed and was suddenly getting very sleepy.

"Basch," he called, his eyes slightly closed.

"Yes Lord Larsa?"

"Who is a better drinking partner, Gabranth or me?"

Basch shook his head, remembering how his brother's alcohol tolerance was much higher than his. "I would have to say that he was," he chucked as he placed the young lord's shoes by the bed.

"Oh phooey," he mumbled childishly as he pushed the covers away and buried himself face front in his pillow.

Soon his breathing evened out and Basch was sure that his charge had fallen asleep. He never knew that the child Noah left him with would eventually turn out to be a handful. But nevertheless he supposed it was all right, after all, Larsa seemed to be the little brother he and Noah never had.

Sixteen. To think he was just sixteen. He still had seventeen, eighteen and nineteen ahead of him. He wondered how much the young lord's own older brothers had taught him, and how much he, as his guardian now, have to endure as well. He only prayed that it would not be as embarrassing as he remembered it to be. It did not matter. Soon he left the young man's room, hoping to find the analgesics and other concoctions that he would need to nurse his charge's headache come morning.

The End

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Author's Notes: I still can't get over the fact that Larsa's just 12 years old in the game. I mean…. First there was that issue with Basch and Ashe… and then there's a thing with Larsa and Penelo as well!? Well, anyway, hope you enjoyed the fic. It was very random… I still don't know what came over me. Well anyway, hope it wasn't that bad. And I do hope you guys could review if you can. Thank you!!!


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